


when i wake up in my makeup (it's too early for that dress)

by blackrose1002, BlackVultures



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Crossdressing, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Mutual Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 00:40:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18712966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackrose1002/pseuds/blackrose1002, https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackVultures/pseuds/BlackVultures
Summary: Riley watched him move from rack to rack, checking out materials, occasionally holding a dress up to her body to get an idea of how it would fit. “Hey, you’re not bad at this.”Mac had his back to her when she spoke, so she didn’t see the quick flick of his eyes toward the one rack he’d been avoiding. A dress had caught his eye, but he wasn’t imaginingRileywearing it. “I’ve had girlfriends before, I like to think I learned something.”(Or: the one where Mac wears a dress and Jack digs it. Like, a lot.)





	when i wake up in my makeup (it's too early for that dress)

**Author's Note:**

> Remember when [blackrose1002](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackrose1002/pseuds/blackrose1002) and I posted that shaving kink fic a while ago and I mentioned we had more fics planned and a lot of them were thinly veiled excuses for porn? Yep, this is one of those. If you're curious/want a visual, [this](https://www.luckdresses.com/A-Line-Princess-V-Neck-Short-Royal-Blue-Chiffon-Prom-Bridesmaid-Party-Dresses-ED010372) is the dress I'm talking about in the fic. This is another product of our DMs, but I was the who pieced this together and thus any mistakes are mine (our DMs are fraught with typos). Um... what else... oh! We imply Riley and Desi are a Thing in this fic, but I didn't tag it because it's not explicitly stated. I hope you enjoy this, and as always please let us know what you think!
> 
> (Title is from "Celebrity Skin" by Hole.)

Despite what most of the Phoenix Foundation probably assumed, Angus MacGyver was not, in fact, attached to Jack Dalton at the hip. They had their own interests and friends outside of work, and while it was true that the six months Jack had spent hunting Tiberius Kovacs were the longest they’d been apart since coming back from the Sandbox, it wasn’t uncommon for them to go their separate ways on the weekend. Right now Jack was hanging out with a couple of his old Delta buddies, Bozer was off doing something involving a film set and clown masks (Mac hadn’t asked for details), and Mac was hanging out with Leanna, Riley, and Desi at the mall.

Well, _hanging out_ and _at the mall_ were generalizations. The mall in question was The Grove, famous for its sprawling array of indoor-outdoor stores and restaurants, and Mac was carrying some of the bags for the ladies and sipping a peach-strawberry smoothie while they shopped. He didn’t feel like a third wheel, though; Riley had him smell perfumes with her, and Leanna had wanted his opinion on which high heels to buy.

It was nice to walk around and chat about nothing in particular… it felt relaxing in the way that talking to Jack used to be, until Mac had realized the feelings he had for his partner ran much deeper than friendship. He hadn’t told anyone about that dilemma, mostly because Mac didn’t view it as one: Jack was straight as far as Mac knew, and even if he wasn’t, why would he be interested in Mac? And rather than face inevitable rejection, Mac sort of… ignored it? As long as he kept them to himself, the feelings weren’t hurting anyone.

Before he could lost in his own head (or start fantasizing about something truly radical, like holding Jack’s hand) Riley appeared out of nowhere and grabbed him by the elbow, dragging him into Nordstrom. “You need to help me pick out a dress—Desi and Leanna bailed on me to look at jeans.”

“More like you wanted to pick out a dress without Desi seeing it, so Leanna took her to look at jeans?” Mac lofted his empty smoothie cup into a nearby trashcan and let himself be towed into the dress department. “You know she doesn’t care what you wear, right? And you could wear a paper bag and look gorgeous.”

“I’ve never been to a veterans’ event before, I don’t want to embarrass her,” Riley said, her mouth curling upward at the paper bag comment. “Such a charmer—does that work on all the ladies?”

Mac snorted. “Oh yeah, that’s why they’re all following me around.” He gestured at the emptiness in their vicinity before setting his armload of bags down to examine a sleek silver dress. “It’s formal, right?”

“Yep.” Riley watched him move from rack to rack, checking out materials, occasionally holding a dress up to her body to get an idea of how it would fit. “Hey, you’re not bad at this.”

Mac had his back to her when she spoke, so she didn’t see the quick flick of his eyes toward the one rack he’d been avoiding. A dress had caught his eye, but he wasn’t imagining _Riley_ wearing it. “I’ve had girlfriends before, I like to think I learned something.”

Riley slipped past him and Mac knew where she was headed, because that was just how his life worked. “What about this one?” she asked, touching the skirt of the dress Mac had admired privately. It was a sapphire blue number with a ribbon V-neck at the top and layers of chiffon that fell to the knee. “It’s pretty, but I don’t know if—”

“It’s beautiful,” Mac interjected before he could stop himself, and he felt heat crawling up his neck to his face. His fingers tingled like they always did when he did something stupid, so he jammed his hands in his pockets and offered Riley a weak but genuine smile. “It would look fantastic on you.”

Riley’s head tilted to one side, and the way she managed to squint while also raising an eyebrow was an expression so Jack-like that it was hard to believe they weren’t related. “But… I’m not the one you’d like to see wearing it, am I?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The words came out a little too quickly, and Mac tried to change the subject: “Maybe something simple would be better? What about a black gown?”

“Black’s nice.” Riley plucked the blue dress off the rack by the hanger and brought it closer. “And we can look at all the dresses for me that you want, right after you try this on.”

Mac forced out a laugh. He also clenched his hands into fists in his pockets, resisting the urge to reach out and touch the swirls of fabric. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Because there’s nothing wrong with a guy wearing a dress,” Riley said, her tone as casual as if they were talking about the weather. “Especially if he were to do it in the privacy of his own home, with his trusted female friends? Men are allowed to want to feel pretty, too.” She was looking at him with big dark eyes, and Mac could tell she meant every word she was saying. “C’mon, Mac—you’re the most selfless person I know. Do something for yourself for a change.”

Hesitantly, Mac extracted a hand from his pocket and reached out, fingers brushing the left strap on the dress. It was shiny and smooth, delicate in all the ways he and his job weren’t. He’d seen the way the women in his life looked in dresses like this one and wondered what it would be like to wear something that floaty and elegant, if only for a little while.

“Fine, I’ll try it on,” Mac relented, earning himself a grin and an excited squeal from Riley. “Doesn’t mean I’m gonna buy it, though.”

Spoiler alert: he bought it.

 

~***~

 

Jack Dalton had been around the block a few times, but he still had a lot of unanswered questions about life. That sounded a lot heavier than it was—right now his biggest question was why convenience stores sold so many different kinds of beer. Like, was there _that_ much demand for… lemon poppy seed pale ale? Don’t get him wrong, he was glad there was more to choose from than Bud Light (which was like drinking water) or Coors (which was like drinking less flavorful water), but honest to God, did chocolate lager even _sound_ appealing to anyone?

This was what was on his mind as he pulled into Mac’s driveway at around seven o’clock in the evening, the sun just going down over the Los Angeles skyline. Jack noticed there were some lights on inside, and Riley’s car was in the driveway—clearly Mac already had at least one visitor, which wasn’t unusual. What _was_ unusual was the music Jack could hear coming from inside the house as soon as he got out of the car. From the thumping bass, it sounded like something more Riley’s speed than Mac’s, and it was turned up awfully loud. Shrugging it off, Jack picked up the twelve-pack he’d bought for this exact scenario and just tried to be thankful that two of his favorite people got along so well.

Even _if_ Jack had kind of been looking forward to some alone time with everyone’s favorite blond genius… hanging out on the couch watching the Rangers game, with Jack definitely not thinking about how hopelessly in love he was with the kid. Oh well, there was always next time. He made his way up to the front door and tried the knob, but found it locked (for once). Since everyone on the team walked into each other’s houses all the time, he had no qualms about using his key; right before he stepped inside he heard Mac laugh, bright and genuine, and couldn’t help the soft smile that spread on his lips. Damn, he loved that sound.

When he stepped inside, Jack wasn’t sure what the hell he was seeing. His brain took in the pieces that made sense first: Riley, Leanna, and Desi were all sprawled on the couch, half-full wine glasses in their hands and an open bottle of a cheap red on the coffee table. The part that didn’t make _any_ sense was the person standing with their back to Jack in a bright blue dress and sequined silver high heels, short golden hair teased into waves… because that person looked like _Mac_.

And evidently Jack had interrupted some kind of catwalk routine, because the person in the dress turned on their heel, skirt swishing with the motion—and sure enough, it _was_ Mac. He was wearing black eyeliner that made his eyes stand out more, already impossibly long lashes coated with mascara; red lipstick gave his mouth a slight sheen, and there were even faux nails glued to his fingers. When he saw Jack he froze, not even breathing, and the look on his face was… terrified? Of _Jack_?

The music cut out, the remote in Riley’s hand and a wicked grin on her face. Desi and Leanna were smiling too, although not as manically.

Mac made a small sound in his throat before he cleared it. “Jack… what are you doing here?”

Riley, from the couch, casual as anything: “Oh, there’s a Rangers game tonight.”

Leanna, who Jack knew for a fact didn’t like sports, guessed tentatively, “Baseball?” and earned herself a high-five from Desi.

Mac turned back in their direction, and the skirt of the dress—which was made out of some kind of translucent fabric, layered up on itself—fluttered around smooth, tanned legs. “Riley, what the fuck?”

Riley shrugged. “Somebody had to do something or you two were never gonna get your shit together.”

Jack had the distinct feeling he was missing something but didn’t know what; judging from the situation, though, it was why Mac was all dolled up. He knew he was staring but couldn’t help himself, eyes unable to tear themselves away from the sight of Mac, who was always gorgeous—seriously, the guy made getting covered in cow shit look good—but this was something else.

Desi levered herself to her feet, picking up the bottle of wine and somehow grabbing both Riley and Leanna at the same time. “Well, I think we should get going, let you boys enjoy the game.”

She tossed a wink in Mac’s direction, and just like that they were gone, leaving Jack and Mac alone.

 

~***~

 

As soon as the door shut behind the girls Mac’s shoulders slumped, gaze dropping to the floor. He felt embarrassed and small, and suddenly wanted nothing more than to rip the dress he’d thought was so pretty earlier to shreds. “Say it. Go ahead, I know you want to.”

“You look…” Jack began, and Mac braced himself for his next words to be harsh or mocking. “Beautiful.”

Mac’s head snapped up, and he stared at his partner with wide eyes, fear replaced with confusion. “What?” He took a tentative step forward, which was very loud against wood floor thanks to the high heels.

Jack’s gaze flicked from Mac’s face to his feet and back again. “You can walk in those?”

Mac inclined his head, still focused on Jack’s face. “It’s kind of like inline skating but harder—don’t change the subject.”

Jack swallowed hard and didn’t respond, so Mac took another step closer, the scent of the floral perfume Leanna spritzed on him earlier making itself known again. “I was out with the girls earlier,” he explained. “I go shopping with them sometimes, and this time Riley sort of… convinced me to try on a dress, and one thing led to another…”

“How so?” Jack asked, and it sounded like he had to force the words out.

Mac blinked. “Well, they made me buy the dress once they saw it fit, and then Desi strong-armed me into looking for shoes. The perfume is Leanna’s, something Bozer got for her that she doesn’t like, and Riley did the makeup, that’s why there’s so much eyeliner…”

Jack made another strange sound. “Sounds like you had fun.”

Mac felt his face contort.“Seriously? You walk in here and say you think I look ‘beautiful’—” here he used air quotes, because why the hell would Jack even _say_ something like that “—and I tell you what happened and _that’s_ your response?”

He turned on his heel and grabbed his wine glass from the coffee table, downed what was left in it, and went in search of another bottle. He was kind of pissed, and confused, and a little hurt—and oh no, what if Jack just said that to say _something_ in an exceedingly awkward situation and now Mac’s made a big deal out of it for no reason?

Jack followed him into the kitchen. “Mac, Mac, wait. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. I just… didn’t think that was something you’d want to hear. Not from me.”

Mac was in the middle of uncorking a new bottle of wine so he had his back to Jack, and once he finagled the cork out he rested his hands against the edge of the countertop, shoulders sagging once again. “Well, maybe you were wrong.” As soon as the words left his mouth he couldn’t believe he said them, and his lower lip trembled for a split second before he got his shit together and started pouring himself another glass of wine.

Behind him, Jack exhaled. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, the words quiet and shaky. “And I don’t just mean today, I mean always. Every day.”

Mac had his glass halfway to his mouth, but when Jack said that he dropped it in the sink, where it shattered into pieces. He didn’t care, though, because he was busy turning around to face his partner, and Mac asked because he had to be sure: “You’re not fucking with me, right? Because I… don’t think I can take that, Jack.”

Jack took a few steps closer so they were only a foot or so apart, expression briefly indignant before it softened again. “God, Mac, I would never do that.”

Before Mac knew what he was doing, he had his hands in the front of Jack’s Black Sabbath t-shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. Jack kissed him back, his arms wrapping around Mac’s waist, and Mac couldn’t help the little sound he made because holy _shit_ Riley was right. He pressed closer, moving his hands from Jack’s chest to his shoulders to his face, stubble scratching his palms.

Jack, in turn, pushed Mac against the counter as he bit down on his bottom lip; it wasn’t until Mac tasted the waxiness of the lipstick that he second-guessed what they were doing. Because as much as Mac trusted Jack, a voice in Mac’s head whispered that this couldn’t be real, because wasn’t Jack straight? And Mac had never been enough for anyone—always too weird, too needy. Why would a dress and a pair of heels change anything?

Reluctantly, Mac used his grip on Jack’s face to push him back. Not far, but it gave them enough space to talk. “Jack, I… where is this coming from?” They both had red lipstick smeared all over their mouths and chins, and it would’ve been comical if Mac wasn’t afraid he was about to get his heart shattered.

Jack frowned, eyebrows drawing down. “What?”

Much to his dismay, Mac couldn’t find the words to ask what he needed to know. Instead, he blurted out, “I’m in love with you. I have been since the day you came back for me in Afghanistan.” And Jack looked like Mac knocked the breath out of him with those words, but he wasn’t done. “I… I need to know if I’m—if this is just sex, I can’t do it.”

“Jesus, Mac,” Jack said, his voice breaking, one hand coming up to cup Mac’s cheek. “Who the hell do you take me for?”

Mac nuzzled into the touch, because how could he not? “It’s just… you never said anything before now, never even gave me a hint—I thought you were straight until five minutes ago.”

Jack let out a sound somewhere between a choke and a laugh. “Here I thought subtle wasn’t my forte. But since it wasn’t clear from the making out we were doin’, I’m definitely not straight.”

Mac had his hands on Jack’s face, thumb stroking lightly under one of Jack’s warm brown eyes. “You know, whatever I expected your reaction to be, it wasn’t this.”

“Oh yeah?” Jack leaned closer. “And what did you expect?”

“Not getting pressed against my kitchen counter with your hand getting progressively closer to my ass, for starters,” Mac said, and when he smiled he felt it reach his eyes. He sobered quickly, however, and asked in a soft voice, “It’s really… not just the dress, right?” Because he _has_ to be sure—the one other time he ever indulged himself in something like this, to say it ended badly would be a massive understatement.

“Mac, I’ve loved you for years,” Jack said, fingers winding around the material of the skirt near Mac’s waist. “You could be wearing a hazmat suit and I’d want you just the same. Although I’m not gonna lie, you look gorgeous in this thing.”

“You’re crazy,” Mac said, quiet and full of affection. He leaned in to kiss Jack, and why did they ever stop doing that?

Jack’s grip on Mac tightened as soon as their lips met again, and it seemed only natural for Mac to hoist himself up on the countertop and pull Jack even closer, between his legs, the skirt of the dress riding up to accommodate him. He ran his hands from Jack’s shoulders down his back to his ass, because Jack had a damn good ass and if Mac was allowed to touch it he was absolutely going to. A groan rumbled out of Jack’s throat and reverberate into Mac’s mouth, making Mac shiver as he kicked off his heels, not wanting to stab Jack accidentally when he curled a leg around his waist. He broke away in favor of kissing down Jack’s cheek, his jaw, his neck, hands moving up from his ass to fiddle with the hem of his shirt.

As usual, Jack understood Mac perfectly, and they separated long enough for Jack to yank his shirt off, tossing it in the same direction as Mac’s heels. Mac’s hands were running up Jack’s bare chest, fingers finding divots and scars in all that muscle that Mac thought just made him sexier; by contrast, he noted that Jack’s hands hadn’t strayed far from Mac’s waist.

Smiling, Mac said, “You can touch me, you know.”

Jack responded to his words instantly, like he was such a gentleman that he was waiting on permission. His hands went from Mac’s waist to his thighs, slowly sliding underneath the dress, the friction of Jack’s rough palms against his skin enough to make him shiver and twitch closer, seeking more contact, the leg that wasn’t hooked around Jack’s waist spreading fractionally wider. Jack’s mouth dove for Mac’s neck, nipping and sucking along his windpipe in a way that had Mac digging his hands into Jack’s shoulders and gasping out a single word: “Bed.”

Jack grinned against Mac’s collarbone and got his arms under Mac’s ass, hauling him up off the counter, Mac’s other leg wrapping around his body automatically. They somehow made it to Mac’s room without grievous injury, but Mac couldn’t help but laugh out loud when Jack dumped him on the bed and then almost fell down because the leather cuff on his wrist got caught in the fluffy skirt of the dress.

“Goddammit,” Jack muttered, laughing too as he shook his arm free and clambered on top of Mac to kiss him.

That was nice, but Mac had something else in mind—problem was, he wasn’t sure he would be getting out of the dress the same way he’d gotten into it between the breadth of his shoulders and the fact that there weren’t three women in the room to help him. While technically the dress didn’t _have_ to come off for them to have fun, it was getting awfully itchy.

“Um, Jack?” Mac asked, a little breathless since Jack was back to sucking bruises into his neck. “Any idea how to get me out of this?”

Jack pulled back to look at him, eyebrows raised. “Well, do you want to wear it again?”

“… I don’t know?” Mac shrugged, an uncomfortable gesture with the straps of the dress digging into his muscles. “Probably not? I guess I could always buy another one if I did. Why?”

“Oh, no reason,” Jack said, before he grabbed the front of the dress and ripped it down the middle. The material wasn’t particularly strong and he was determined to get it off… but what Jack didn’t realize and Mac didn’t have a chance to tell him was that Mac was completely naked under the dress. There was no point in wearing a bra, obviously, and the skirt was so pleated so underwear wasn’t necessary to hide anything.

Mac blinked a few times. “Uh… I was going to mention that I didn’t have anything on… under that,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the two halves of the dress.

He felt himself flush from his face to his chest, but before he had a chance to get self-conscious Jack was tossing the ruined dress aside and leaning down to mash their mouths together in a hard kiss, one that Mac returned as he wrapped his arms around his partner, hands coming to rest on his lower back, right above the waistband of the jeans Jack hadn’t taken off in the kitchen. He brought his hands around to unbutton Jack’s jeans and tugged, trying to get Jack to kick them off.

Even though Jack was invested in mapping out Mac’s teeth with his tongue he got with the program and helped divest himself of his boots and pants. And once Jack’s down to his underwear, Mac grabbed them by the waistband and tore them in half—you know, just to be fair. That earned him a laugh and another kiss from Jack, who pressed himself all along Mac when he spread his legs so Jack could settle between them, lips moving back down to Mac’s neck as their cocks slid together.

“So what do you want to do?” Mac asked, scratching his nails down Jack’s back.

“Anything. Everything.” Jack groaned into his neck, arching into Mac’s touch before pulling back to look at him, nuzzling his cheek and kissing the corner of his mouth. “Whatever you want, I’m game.”

An idea sparking in his mind, Mac ran a hand up Jack’s spine to the back of his head, fingers rubbing at the short hair there while he asked casually, “What did you want to do to me when you saw me in the dress?” When Jack just swallowed harshly and stared at him, apparently unable to formulate a response, Mac pulled him in to whisper in his ear, low and slow, “Because I’ve always liked the idea of you fucking me until I scream.”

Jack’s hips stuttered involuntarily, and he breathed out, “ _Fuck_. Tell me you have—”

“Drawer,” Mac said, cutting him off, nipping at his earlobe, laughing when Jack groped blindly for the nightstand with his face buried in Mac’s hair.

Once Jack located the lube and condoms he wasted no time, popping open the bottle and pouring lube on his fingers before reattaching his lips Mac’s neck. His mouth trailed lower, sucking a bruise into Mac’s chest while his index finger pressed against Mac’s entrance, the combined sensations enough to make Mac toss his head back and moan. By the time Jack’s lips reached the bullet scar over Mac’s shoulder a second finger had joined the first and Mac was pushing back against them, hands gripping at Jack’s shoulders, his biceps, anything he could reach.

Those fingers found his prostate and Mac’s whole body jolted, his heart racing, another moan escaping his lips. “Please, Jack.”

He felt Jack smile into his chest, teeth scraping his skin. “That’s right, darlin’, let me hear you.”

Mac didn’t have a choice in the matter, because when Jack added a third finger and curled them inward he whimpered, hands moving to twist in the sheets on either side of his body. “Jack, come on—I’m ready.”

“God, you’re gorgeous,” was Jack’s very collected response, pulling his fingers out and reaching for a condom.

He managed to keep his hands steady while he put it on, and after lubing himself up he moved back between Mac’s legs and pushing inside. Mac made a sound he didn’t know he was capable of—a long, continuous whine that came from somewhere deep in his chest, heels pushing into Jack’s lower back. Jack was clearly forcing himself to stay still once he bottomed out, but it only took a few seconds for adjustment for Mac to wrap his arms around Jack’s neck and urge him to move, mouth pressed to his jaw.

So Jack moved, and as gentle as the first thrust was it hit Mac so deeply it forced the breath from his lungs. For the next one he drew back almost all the way before slamming home again, faster this time, and set up a steady pace that made Mac let out these little yelps whenever Jack hit his prostate. He clawed his nails down Jack’s back, hard enough to leave marks, but the pain just seemed to spur Jack on; he hooked his hands under Mac’s thighs and pushed his knees up to his chest to drive in even deeper. The thrusts were only getting faster and more intense, and Mac knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Jack, please,” Mac said, and all it took was one touch of Jack’s hand on his cock for him to come with—you guessed it—a scream. It was loud enough that Mac was glad later that his neighbors didn’t live close by because they would’ve gotten an earful. It was a back-arching, toe-curling orgasm, the whole nine yards.

He clenched hard around Jack and it only took a few more hard thrusts for Jack to come as well, pushing his face into Mac’s shoulder. They stayed that way for a moment, a panting tangle of limbs, and even after Jack loosened his grip on Mac’s legs to allow him to un-crunch from pretzel form it still took a moment for coherent thought to return. Mac ran what was meant to be a soothing hand down Jack’s back… until he felt something wet, and pulled it away to find his palm covered in blood.

“Shit,” Mac muttered, which made Jack lift his head. “I’m sorry?” He added, showing him the offending hand as evidence.

The last thing he expected was for Jack to start laughing. “Guess you forgot you were wearing claws, huh?”

Mac _was_ wearing fake nails, but now they were sort of… all over the bed, and in pieces. And he knew he should probably take a look at Jack’s back and make sure none of those pieces were in him, but he didn’t have any strength left in his body and Jack was sort of crushing him and also still inside him. And the next thing Mac knew he was laughing too, because the whole situation was pretty hysterical—especially when he got a decent look at Jack’s face, which was covered in lipstick. He could only imagine what he looked like, since his eyes were burning from runny mascara and he could even feel lipstick coating his teeth.

But he discovered he didn’t give a damn about any of that when he put his bloody hand on Jack’s face, and his partner nuzzled into his touch. “God, I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Jack replied, and kissed the inside of his wrist with a smile on his face.

Mac smiled back, and said casually, “So I guess this means I should go back to the mall for another dress, huh?”

“I think,” Jack started, leaning in to kiss Mac on the cheek, “that you should maybe start by sending Riley a thank-you fruit basket. Or a pizza.”

“Maybe both?” Mac suggested, unable to stop a huge grin from spreading on his face.

Jack grinned back, and pressed their mouths together in a real kiss. “Both sounds good.”


End file.
